Moonsong Glacier my fingers laced to crown,
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@Zugzwang & @Slavik!
Setting GBW at pre-dawn, a few days before Rusalka v. Drageda
Summary After imparting her very self to an unlikely stranger of the sea, Aure begins the trek back to Dragoncrest - but finds herself entangled in the cat's cradle.
Fear.

It was the same fear she'd felt as a child, and then, with Rakk. It was a wild, rattling thing within her; and remembering what-in-heavens'-name was behind her, her terror became a thrashing creature, almost as tangible and alive as herself and her erratic heart.

Aure had never seen a lion before; save except one time, as a whelp. Through the bleary tears of fervor pricking at her eyes and hushed by the wind, she could almost set the memory before her: huddled into her mothers' flank, worrying at his thick, northern coat in her jaws as they lie, almost as death does, for that great, skulking feline to prowl away -- she'd hope for forever, at that time.

This morning was no different, at least, where this chittering diavol was concerned. But the constellations pushed through her glaze of nearly-thoughtless fright. They hissed at her, airy and tiny and so achingly far away; took hold of her petrified soul, governing and raucous, and left her no other entreaty than to head south. So she went.

Almost in flight, how fleetly her coltish legs flurried, she was as sudden as snow; her wispy coat billowed away from her, bending to the lashing winds she seared through. Nothing more the corner of ones eye than a trick; just a wraith of winter, once more fleeing from a creature out of some abysmal hell.

Streaking through Chimera Fields at full force, she saw - (barely) - more than she felt the great, golden mass of WHAT?! she slammed into; heels over head and sprawling and all.
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Slavik truly did have the soles of a wanderer. He couldn’t help but stray from the borders of Moonspear sometimes. He planned to only be gone a short time, not long enough to be missed, and he would bring back something special to make up for it if anyone did. He just wanted to walk, even through the powdery sheet. His large golden frame stuck out pitifully in this cover, but that didn’t matter to him. He felt calm and at ease, as though nothing could cause him any trouble today.

Slavik was sorely mistaken. He didn’t really know what he’d been looking for out in this snow, but even if he had been looking for her he might’ve missed her. He definitely felt her before he saw her, her pelt was such a shade of ice and he wasn’t paying much attention to anything. He yelped in surprise as he fell into the snow, his whole body in shock both from the collision and from the sudden cold. He scrambled to his feet, a snarl on his lips preparing for whatever sort of attack this was, but his sunlit eyes came to rest on a striking moonstone woman. She wasn’t what he’d expected, and his snarl faltered to a look of awe. Whoa.

But then he remembered that she’d slammed into him, she could still be an attacker for all he knew. Or, she could be in trouble. Whatever, he came to the realization that now was not the time to feel some sort of attraction. His dumbstruck look faded and his thick brows narrowed again, Who are you, what’s- what’s going on? he asked in a state of confusion.
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The burnished beast was filled with fury as he crossed along the coast again, back-tracking after the female he had scented; a part of him furious with desire, a part of him eager to present his battered hide as proof of his skills and ferocity. He grew ill of the scent of the brined air and slunk towards the mountains, where he found a splintered hill that once housed a mighty forest (or so he believed, but truthfully the feline was still buzzed with the scent of Forsythe and he couldn't care less for the terrain). As he marched over the hillside and slunk in to a snowed-in gully lined with ice, Zugzwang realized he had cornered himself, so he back-tracked again — zigging, zagging, it mattered little to the beast until he crested a ridge and spied some shapes. His need for his woman was immense at this point, thus his initial glance and judgement told him that the golden coat was her, so he lunged throught he snow and gave chase to that which he coveted. The beast did not realize it was a pitiful wolf — nor that the cur draped in gold had a pale ally lost among the glacier's hale.
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The she-wolf only had a moment to acknowledge the kin before her was an anxious thing of a gold giant, staggering to his paws and shaking himself out. She didn’t catch his looks of wonder, and despite how assertive of no he might be, she suddenly pivoted towards him, her voice low and breathless, “L-leu, leu!” 

Casting a harried glance behind her, furtive and shaken, she whirled back and took a heft his thick, gilded fur between her jaws and began to tug at him insistently; away from the way she came. Her argent-blue gaze squinted up at him, full of urgency; she only released him to repeat her forgein and undoubtedly frightened words, and then, “W-we need to r—“

And then she heard it. A yawning caterwaul, edged with an intent she did not wish to be around for. Lashes flown wide, she hesitated, as if to actually wait for this sun-bedecked male to follow suit. As she saw a blaze of smoke and copper, her silvery-blue gaze slowly rose to meet the twin suns of the wolf close to her. She still held a great wad of his fur in her jaws, pink nose scrunched as her mind blanked as the feline crested before them—

She remained next to him for a flicker of a heartbeat. But she didn’t give herself time to think; paws skidding on vegetation and frost before she was streaking away again. Arrowed for the slough of a glacier up ahead and hoping that by some whim, some grace, there would be a crevasse to weasel into—or for this hell-thing to end up freezing to death between.
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Slavik’s initial distractions melted away as the cruciality of the situation set in. The snowy ghost turned to him with wild blue eyes, her words foreign and lost to him. What? he started, his eyes following her around still confused and narrowed. Full of panic, she was next upon his side, pulling him away from the direction she’d come from. He stumbled away for a moment, trying to figure out what was going on. The fear in her staggered next words was all he needed to hear to realize that they were both in serious danger. He could easily piece together what she couldn’t get out, his eyes locked with her moonbeam gaze for seconds as this farrago of events unfolded.

He saw the cat as it came towards them, a streak of bronze and ferocity. Slavik felt a wave of fear at the sight and when he turned to the girl tugging at his side she was already tearing away. A glance back at the cat; it had it’s sights on him. He ran just at the heels of the arctic girl, his breaths heavy and cold. The only thing on his mind now was escape- safety. The two wolves streaked across a powdery rise, both eyes scanning for a place of concealment.
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The cat closed the distance with ease, hindered only by the snow which he could power through, stride by stride, until he was practically within arms reach of the golden-furred creature. By now he knew it was not the woman — it was something smaller, with sharp angles and a longer coat. He loosed a snarl at the discovery as if it incited some violent tendencies within him, but really it was a rallying cry; then, cresting a hillock that placed him in line with the wolf, he made a mad leap with claws reaching eagerly for @Slavik's face. The pale wolf who ran alongside him was still somehow missed, not catching in Zugzwang's mental radar as he focused so intently on the golden spark of fur.
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If there was one thing she’d conquered, it was ice-fields. Glaciers. Ears pressed slick against her skull, a low, harsh growl leaving her; as her eyes alit on various, slight openings; one caught her sight, one that seemed generous enough for wolves, and unforgiving for anything greater. She had to try, and hope the entrance was a hollow—and for whoever this male was.

“Here!” She panted from over a wispy ruff and thin shoulder. Gathering what little of her flagging strength she had left, she scrabbled up frost-crusted boulders and frozen crags; and then flickered through the crevasse, out of sight.

But she couldn’t help the sharp yelp that skipped from her—ice at her ribs, falling through air, and then she was tumbling upon snowy silt and earth’s gravel. She sprang to her paws, whipping her head to see if the gilded male followed, breathing hard.
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Slavik’s heartbeat was pulsing madly with every stamp of his feet, this danger had incited a terror he’d never felt before. Sunlight eyes could only focus on two things; the glacier and the girl. If he dared look back, he would surely freeze with fear. He wasn’t as well versed in the land that they covered as she, he did not know where to go. Doubt kept nagging at him, whispering that there was no escape. The cat was gaining on them, he could tell from the heavy footfalls that crescendoed towards them.

Here! He heard her voice, and immediately turned to follow her. His eyes followed her direction to a small crevasse, only large enough to welcome them. She pounced lithely up the glacier’s crumbles and disappeared into it, Slavik was about to ascend as well when the cat appeared in his peripheral and leapt towards him. He yelped, paws scuffling at the earth as he tore forwards, flinging his body at the stones that led up to the crevasse. He felt the talons rake his back hip, but there was no pain response in his nerves. Adrenaline had flooded him, the rest of the scramble was lost to him, he barely knew how he’d gotten into the crevasse but once he had all he saw was a blur of white fluff and all he felt was her breath nearby.
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Z out!

The feline fought against gravity as he came crashing to the earth, struggling as soon as his weight touched down on a plane of ice and snow without grabbing the golden-furred wolf in time; he hissed a small noise as he tucked his limbs beneath himself for another attempt, but had to veer in a new direction as both wolves took flight from him — and then it wasn't a matter of lunging or fighting through the snow, it was keeping track of their path. Such a thing took time and effort and Zugzwang was incited by their presence enough to lack the paitence for it. He charged after them, the scent of wolf heavy in the air, and began to gain some momentum — only to have that golden spark snuff out in the snow, somewhere. One moment it was there, glinting and racing away, and the next — he loosed a sharp caterwaul filled with his frustration and watched his surroundings for signs of movement. The longer he waited the more impatient he felt, and so Zugzwang was easily distracted by the movement of birds in the trees or the crackling of a heavy branch in the woods; he spun in a new direction and tore along, eager to set his teeth and claws upon any flesh he came upon. Luckily for the wolves, he would bypass their hiding place and they would survive this.
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<3 !

Aure had thought the sun-stone of a male would have landed as she did—on his paws, lungs fervently flourishing for chilling air. But no. No, he did not.

Instead, in the glacier’s gloam, they’d staggered into one another, and, entirely winded, she'd tipped gracelessly onto her back. And now there was a male, chinning at her breast. Never in her life had she felt ribs heaving against her belly... or back, for that matter. She supposed they were even, now; and she felt bad for him, rather than herself. The brana was nothing but thin bones heaped with too-generous fur.

Not the most desirable female to, er, lie with. She tried to speak, but all that left her was a strangled, airless little noise. Aure promptly clamped her jaw shut, and settled for squirming against the body atop of her own; doing an admirable effort of trying to ignore the breath at her cheek and the great muscles straining along her lack thereof.

All she could do was sputter and blush, and pray this golden stranger wouldn’t notice, despite their other harrowing situation.
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Slavik didn’t notice at first that he’d fallen on top of her - if he were in a more calm state he would’ve, and hastily stood and apologized. But he could only feel and think fear, in that moment he could’ve sworn the cat was upon him again, tearing more flesh from his back. His youthful eyes were shut tight, as if not seeing it’s monstrous figure would hold the beast at bay.

It lasted for a few seconds - and then one eye slipped open, and then the other, and in front of them was a snowy fae, with two gleaming stars to look back at him with. For a moment he was still frozen, but not of fear. It was a confused bliss, he didn’t know what he was doing, and he wasn’t thinking about it; he was just there, feeling her breath and losing himself in her beautiful gaze.

And then he snapped out of it with a blink. He all too quickly became aware of where he was, and how he was positioned. His eyes widened and he scrambled back just as she began to wriggle, a stammering jumble escaping his mouth between breaths, uh uhhh oh no. His head ducked, total embarrassment scrawled across his features. His next words came out quickly, I am so so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall on you there was a cat.
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The she-wolf blinked at the male’s mortification, all the while clambering to her paws and ruffling herself up against the cold; if there was one thing she’d welcomed, it was warmth. From any source. But she doubt they’d freeze to death in here. Of course...

And then she heard the skittish apology, genuinely confessed. And she... laughed.

When Aure was a bairn, her queen-mother once told her that her laughter was ”akin to moonlight on water.” As Kio’s child grew, the Lady still liked to tell the story of the heiress’ bafflement. Aure still didn’t know what it was meant to sound like, but it pealed from her frozen throat nonetheless—the merriment once so lost and unfamiliar as it billowed airily from her in girlish, tender-hearted gasps. Eyes furling into crescent moons as she keeled into the feeling of it; as if she’d forgotten what it felt like. Not too far from the truth, actually.

Grappling for air once again, she rose to face the bright male, the world’s light bringing notice to their surroundings in here. ”I-I know,” she tittered, trying to chide the rare smile from her lips, ”Are you hurt?” If he was, then she’d soon feel very guilty; having laughed at another’s pain. Regardless, she made her way over to him, limbs trembling from exertion. 
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Slavik was completely and fully embarrassed, but the girl seemed to think it was funny. Her laugh was sweet, almost like a song. The embarrassment on his face melted to something softer, almost fonder. He had had plenty of crushes, but this was a different kind altogether. This was like how he’d felt with Vea, the first girl he’d ever kissed. Since then he and Speedy had shared many affectionate licks, but they were quite the same. He and Speedy were best friends, he wasn’t quite crushing on her.

But oh how easy it was to fall in love with the moon.

The sunbeam boy was staring into her eyes, just admiring her, when she finally spoke. This broke him from his wonderstruck gaze, and he looked away, once again feeling that hot awkwardness growing again. She asked if he was hurt, and despite the sting of his back, he shook his head no. Perhaps it was because of the cool air numbing his nerves, or because he was too lost in her to care. I-I’m fine. Are you ok? he asked, his tail twitching behind him.
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”As well as one can be, after being... hunted,” she shuddered at the realization of it, and cast a glare back to the crevasse from which they’d come. Although they’d dropped a short way, she doubted they’d be able to get back through. Especially her, with her lack of average height...

But she turned back to him, close enough to assess the sunlit... savior? Open and unaware (of how it might look), her eyes roamed along his sturdy, wavering frame. In a way, he reminded her of Drageda’s cheka, even though the two males couldn’t have been more opposite. Where the dark beheld a looming, feline grace, the gold attained a hulking, boyish charm. Nonetheless, she couldn’t deny the little part of her that was drawn to him. Dangerously, in the same manner she might be drawn to Verx; where one’s seduction came from him like a birth-language, this bright one seemed to be... unaware of his own.

Dangerous, indeed.

Instead, she merely piped, ”At least let me take a closer look? ...Please?” voice rising with the ask of permission. She came closer still, head tipped to one side, ”You may be strong, but even ze smallest wounds give cause to fall.” Until they got to somewhere more, well, chock with vegetation, the least she could do was examine him.
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When she spoke more than the few delicate words she’d stammered out before, Slavik noticed her accent for the first time. It was as elegant as she, just as melodic as her saccharine laugh. He nodded along with what she said, the image of the cat had dug its claws into his mind and wouldn’t be leaving him anytime soon.

Next her eyes drifted over his frame, somehow Slavik didn’t notice. His gaze was cast at the icy ground, as he tried to think of what next to say to her. He didn’t want it to be stupid, a rushed introduction or greeting. He wanted to make a good impression on her, he needed to. She just seemed important.

The moonlight woman saved him from his worries, and spoke next. Concern for him, she voiced it in a way that he couldn’t say no to. Yeah of course, thank you... uhh, he said, realizing he hadn’t gotten her name.
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She simply nodded, drawing up alongside him as he gave thanks. When there was a beat of silence, she gazed up from where she’d halted to inspect his shoulder. It took her a few, blank blinks, but she finally gave, ”I am Aure,” smiling a bit apologetically up at him. Ears flickering a little sheepishly, she returned to inspecting him, careful to not let her coat graze along his own.

Muttering lowly to herself, she rounded him, eyes flitting keenly along his hocks. Aure almost moved on, when a dull gleam of scarlet caught her eyes—”I was right! You did get hurt,” she breathed, lashes fluttering at the prospect of the affirmation. The scar(s) the mountain-cat had given him curved from the base of his spine and along a strong hip.

Jaw working, eyes not leaving it, she quietly informed him, ”I will have to clean ze wound. I understand ze experience we—you have just gone through has been nerve-wracking. All ze same, may I?”
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Slavik’s head turned to follow her as she padded to his side, his eyes meeting hers when she blinked up at him. Aure, she introduced herself, a beautiful name. Aure, a word that was almost whispered to himself, just to feel how soft it was on his tongue. He said it with a fond smile dancing upon his lips.

He watched her with wide curious eyes as she walked along his side, inspecting his body. He felt odd, almost a little jittery to feel her so near, but not against his side. It was an anticipation of something that wouldn’t come, until of course she found the oozing cut on his hip. Thick brows furrowed at her exclamation, as he certainly hadn’t recognized the pain before. But when he thought about it, it came flooding back to him, a burning presence along his spine.

He tried to turn to see the injury, he could only see out of the corner of his eye a splash of crimson in his fur. It wasn’t exactly an easy spot to reach, so her offer was welcome. He looked back at her to give a nod rather than words, his golden gaze held a sort of helpless gratitude.
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She hummed in return, and then promptly set to work. Bolstering herself against the coppery tang, she swabbed along the red welts, eyes distant and focused. Tried to be as ginger as she possibly could, but all the same, she needed to stop the bleeding and clean the wound somehow.

Aure drew away for a moment, thinking, before flitting away to a wall of the glacier; returning a moment later with a small shard, precariously held between her fangs. Gently, she pressed the cube of ice into his hip, before running it along the rest of the wound. She did this several times, before stepping away and discarding her material.

”Until there are plants to be found, the least we can do is to keep down ze swelling.” The snowy she-wolf turned back to the mass of golden fur, coming up alongside him again. Her breath misted in the chill as she studied his face, looking for any tell-tale signs there. ”Hopefully, there’s a way out of this glacier.”
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At first Slavik winced at her touch, the pain burning along his laceration. But the more she did it the more he got used to it, and the better he felt. His body tingled with every introduction of tongue to flesh, his ears perked on his head. He turned his head attentively to follow her when she broke from his side. An ice shard, cold and smooth, he was unsure of what she had in mind with that item. He shifted to face her as she walked back towards him, but didn’t resist when she moved back out of sight and to his wounds.

His molten eyes watched as she pressed the ice into his side, a gasp sucking at the cold air around him. Once again the injury stung, but this time it began to numb, until the cold had replaced the pain. Finally she dropped her medium and stepped back to acknowledge him. He nodded in understanding as she explained her reasoning, glancing back to see the cleaned wound. Blood still welled at the skin, but wasn’t oozing, and he didn’t feel it nearly as much.

Eyes were on her when she moved to stand by his side, she mentioned finding a way out of the glacier. He gave a hopeful smile, he was an optimistic sort, I’m sure there will be, we’ll find it, he reassured, for the sake of Aure and himself. His feet had started to move before he’d finished speaking, they were just as eager to get to higher and warmer grounds as he.

Sorry about.. falling on you earlier, and also running into you. Not my best start, he added with an apologetic look.
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its like 6am i havent slept yet hAH short rambly lame post im sry

Aure couldn’t help but tip her head up at him, wondering if it wasn’t just the sun that shone through him. Once upon a time, she’d been as alit with thought as he was... as her brother had been. For a moment she sobered, a bit melancholy of herself, but looked back to him with a quiet nod. With what she knew of glaciers—well, what she’d learned—she knew that if there was a way in, there was more than one way to get out.

As they began to press forward together, her ears flickered at his apology; a soft smile came to curl at her lips once more, unbiddened and beckonded simply by the modest male alongside her. ”I believe I was ze one who ran into you, actually, so... I should apologize for that.” The she-wolf spared a glance to him, tail swaying low. ”S-sorry, for, ahm, getting you caught up in all this. But... that cat would’ve taken both of us. Well, you, I think.”

Heavens, shut up shut shut up shut up, Aure! ”I-I mean, it looked like it was after you.” She squeaked, their voices mingled among the reverberations of the ice they traipsed through oh my god Aure shut up.
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The white furred girl replied with a sweet smile, infectious and rare, that spread brightly to his own lips. He shook his head at her return, the smile still danced in his sunlit eyes. No don’t apologize! I’m big, I can handle getting run into, he said, watching a warm mist puff from his mouth as he did.

She moved on to apologize more, now for getting him into this mess in the first place. Brows grew more furrowed with confusion and a hint of amusement as her elegant tone became a near squeak. The more she added, the more regretful he could see she grew. He pursed his lips as if giving what she said much thought, looking at the path ahead. And then he gave a thoughtful nod. Yep, he said, then a pause, I definitely would’ve been the one to get it. So technically you save my life.

His youthful eyes flicked back to his moonlight companion, his confident charm had returned in troves. He gave a look as if to say, there’s no need to be flustered, I get you. A wink and a hum, low and sincere, Thank you Aure.
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#22
its ellie back at it again w the 6am posts
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By the time he winked her way, her mind was still set on the subject of saving his life? Had she? ”Did I...?” she murmured, more to herself than anything. But her gaze whirled to him, like a winter wind, and she felt a bit... helpless in this. ”Did I save your life? I’ve never...” The rest of whatever was said ended up in resigned mumbles, as if she were dragged back into her own thoughts.

Usually, she was so withdrawn and duty-focused around most of the wolves she’d come to know. So, why not with him? She could simply chalk it up to their nerve-wracking experience, or the oddity of how easy it felt to relax alongside him in all this. Or, simply, it has just been a long time since she’d been challenged in such a way—pushed to her limits. And maybe it left her a bit breathless, more lax than usual.

And then, heat suffused her chest and throat and cheeks, and she knew it wasn’t simply because she was modest at saving his life. ”Y-you are welcome. Er, for getting your...life saved. It is a good thing.” Which, of course, she’d never admit to. Ever. Obviously. Did she really deserve his thanks? Really? ”I mean, I’m glad you aren’t dead.”

Oh my god. Scarred face full of mortification, she suddenly picked up the pace into a fleet trot—as if trying to get away from him and her ridiculous words. 
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#23
Her voice was almost distant, like she was going through something in her mind that wasn’t all translated through tongue. She had trailed off into mumbles, Slavik could only chuckle and smile, Oh yeah, I would’ve just kept running straight ahead until it got me. You were the one who found the crevice, he pointed out, for truthfully he would’ve likely missed it, or been too terrified to have the sense to look.

A deep breath heaved from his lungs, they walked through a short warm gust of it before it froze like the rest of the air around them. He could feel his black nose beginning to dew, so he ducked it down to his thick sunny chest fluff to warm it. They walked in a silent pause - that was for him just a moment to enjoy the presence of her, and the life he’d been spared, but for her was a moment to think. She had the bearings of a great intellect, Slavik could almost feel the buzz of her thoughts. And yet she was also so calm, and collected.

Until suddenly she sputtered out some words, and a mortified expression covered the relaxed elegance of her features. I’m glad you aren’t dead, she said, then hurried forward in utter embarrassment. Ok so maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say, but a Slavik wouldn’t hold anything against her. And it was a little funny. He smiled and cast a glance at the ground, trying to hide a soft laugh.

The large male watched her go for a second, then bounded after her in a few big steps. I’m glad I’m not dead too, otherwise I wouldn’t have met you and that would be a shame, he said, hoping to catch her gaze with a half flirtatious half genuine glint in his eyes.
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#24
pUBCHES A WALL BC I RLY LOVE HIM!!!1!!1! soft hours ONLY

And there he was, falling right back into place with a few golden strides. Her heart thrashed in her breast—what the hell was wrong with her? She’d only felt so flushed in this exact manner, once, as a whelp when she’d taken to another of her pack at the time. This feeling was...frivolous, girlish, vulnerable and... she didn’t know how to conduct herself. What did you usually do?

’I wouldn’t have met you and that would’ve been a shame.’ Her brows narrowed, eyes creasing with bewilderment. Would it have been a shame if they hadn’t stumbled into another? ”W-well, I can’t imagine why else it would be a shame. You would be dead, if you hadn’t met me, if that’s what you are saying.” She gave pause, and then hurriedly stuttered, ”N-n-no, I mean— I’m not arrogance! I’m-I'm... I am anything but ze arrogant!”

It was only when her tongue became heavy and she was practically babbling all foreign-like that his supplication from earlier finally dawned on her.

...Oh.

Her expression fading from pleading into one of quiet realization, ears pressing back as her lips went thin. But blood still sting at her face, her cheeks, beneath wide eyes as she meekly turned away. The she-wolf pointedly looked at anywhere but him, felt as if she would spring from her pelt with nervous bashfulness if she did. But she wasn’t enraged or overjoyed; simply... honeyed, she thinks. Feeling a certain fondness that she didn’t know what to name or where to apply.

As untrue as she believed it to be, Aure was not one to turn away praise. Even if she felt underserving of such notice, she still tried to accept them graciously—clumsily.